An Astonishment
Now comes the strange part of my story.
One evening the housemaid opened the door to Mr. Dempster on his return from the city; and perhaps the fact that it was the maid, and not the page as usual, roused his observation, which, except in business matters, was not remarkably operative. He glanced at the young woman, when an eye far less keen than his could not have failed to remark a strangely excited expression on her countenance.
“Where is the boy?” he asked.
“Just run to the doctor’s, sir,” she answered.
Then first he remembered that when he left in the morning his wife had not been feeling altogether well, but he had never thought of her since.
“How is your mistress?” he said.
“She’s rather poorly, sir, but—but—she’s as well as could be expected.”
“What does the fool mean?” said Dempster to himself, and very nearly said it aloud, for he was not over polite to any in his service. But he did not say it aloud. He advanced into the hall with deliberation, and made for the stair.
“Oh, please sir,” the maid cried in a tone of perturbation, when, turning from shutting the door, she saw his intention, “you can’t go up to mis’ess’s room just at this minute, sir. Please go in the dining-room, sir.”